Sandbox Game Mechanics

Inside Water Caltrop Lake Wetland Park, outside the abandoned sanatorium, stood wooden stakes of varying thicknesses.

"I heard that freshly cut wood will crack and warp if it isn't treated." Old White leaned on his axe, frowning at the logs piled haphazardly against the wall.

Fang Chang asked.

"How is it usually treated?"

Old White said.

"You either bake out the moisture, or paint both ends and let the wood air-dry naturally. You can also soak it in water, but it'll be harder to deal with once you haul it back out... Let's hope it doesn't rain over the next few days."

Old White made a rough estimate. Including yesterday's work, there was more than enough wood to cut into three-to-four-meter logs, sharpen at both ends, drive into the ground, and repair the north and west walls of the sanatorium.

The problem was that these were untreated logs, so their durability was hard to guarantee. After a few rainstorms, they might rot away.

So he discussed it with Fang Chang and decided to take a different approach: use cement as a building material.

There was plenty of concrete rubble in the wasteland, and quite a bit of it inside the sanatorium alone.

After years of weathering, thermal expansion and contraction, wind, and rain, most of the concrete that had peeled away from the rebar had crumbled into gravel.

There was no point expecting these materials to be particularly reliable.

But mixing them with cement and reinforcing them with steel bars salvaged from the ruins would be more than enough to build simple concrete fortifications.

It might be shoddy construction, but it was still much better than wood.

They weren't planning to build a skyscraper anyway.

However, to make use of all that concrete rubble, they first needed cement.

And to make cement, they needed enough coal and a kiln that could withstand temperatures of 1,450 degrees Celsius.

Just then, Gale and Ye Shi returned.

Fang Chang noticed that the plastic bucket in Gale's hand was full of smooth, evenly mixed mud slurry.

"There's a river east of Diamond Lake. It isn't on the map, so it probably formed sometime in the last two hundred years. We explored the entire shoreline from the east side down to the south, and marked the areas where mutants are active, along with suspected nest locations, on the map."

As he spoke, Gale had Ye Shi take out the map, which had several markings drawn on it in charcoal.

With this map, it would be much safer for them to fetch water from the lake.

But Fang Chang's attention was on the bucket in Gale's hand.

"What's in there...?"

"I found it by the river." Gale set the bucket down and continued, "It occurred to me that we could use this stuff as a building material, so I brought some back."

"This can't be used as a building material. It'll wash away as soon as water hits it." Squatting down, Old White picked up a little slurry and rubbed it between his thumb and forefinger. Suddenly, an excited expression appeared on his face. "But this is good stuff. We've got the materials for our kilns now."

"Kilns?" Ye Shi froze.

"Old White and I discussed it. We're planning to make cement," Fang Chang said.

Gale looked at him in surprise.

"This... can actually work?"

"Why wouldn't it? Isn't this a sandbox game?" Old White stood up and said excitedly, "Just dump the mud here. You two go get a few more buckets. Fang Chang, help me gather some branches. Move it!"

"Got it." Fang Chang hurried off enthusiastically.

Gale and Ye Shi exchanged a glance, both looking utterly bewildered as they went along too.

The river was shallow, but there was plenty of silt along its banks, and it wasn't far from the sanatorium. They brought back a large pile without much effort.

Old White used the silt to build a circular ring, dug two holes in the side as air intakes, then placed charcoal and dry leaves left over from cooking inside it and lit them with the matches left behind by the administrator.

The fire quickly rose.

The surrounding mud slurry slowly dried out.

Old White dug up fresh mud with his hands, drying it as he built up the kiln walls. Only when the kiln reached his thighs did he start stuffing thumb-thick sticks inside.

"What are you making?" Fang Chang looked curious. He had played survival games before, but he had never done anything this detailed in a game.

"Charcoal! We don't have coal, so we can only use carbon instead. You can't make cement by burning wood. We have to start from the basics."

"How do you even know this?"

"I played with it back in my hometown when I was a kid."

"..."

Played with it, huh.

Who the hell played with this stuff?

Old White stood up, dusted off his hands, and began sealing the top of the kiln before the fire inside could ignite the wood.

This step was crucial.

Before the wood caught fire, he needed to leave an opening at the top. Once the temperature inside became high enough, he would seal every opening with mud slurry, smothering the wood for a full day. By tomorrow, they would have an entire kiln full of charcoal.

"If you seal up every hole, won't the fire inside go out?"

"Not right away. Besides, that's exactly the effect we want."

Old White wiped away his sweat and slapped Fang Chang on the shoulder.

"Don't just stand around either. Let's build a few more kilns while we're at it, including one for making cement tomorrow."

"Okay..."

It wasn't just Fang Chang who joined Old White's "construction crew." After hauling enough mud slurry, Gale and Ye Shi were drafted in as well.

The four players worked together to build four earthen charcoal kilns, then used aluminosilicate clay dug from the riverbank to build a slightly larger one.

According to Old White, they could try making some cement tomorrow.

He planned to make plant ash cement.

This crude method did not produce particularly advanced or reliable cement, but it would definitely be stronger than wood.

And with plant ash cement, he could try building a concrete kiln capable of withstanding even higher temperatures.

Old White had already decided to look up some information online after logging off.

"Fuck... I finally understand why the administrator told us to figure out a way to build a bathhouse." Smelling the sweat stench all over himself, Ye Shi, who already had a bit of a cleanliness obsession, felt like he was about to suffocate from the smell.

This game was way too fucking hardcore.

"How about we go wash up at the lake before logging off?" Old White suggested.

"I'm in... But speaking of which, where's the administrator? It's almost time to log off. Why hasn't he come back yet?" Gale asked.

"Maybe he has something to deal with."

"Then how are we supposed to let him know about everything we accomplished this afternoon?" Ye Shi quickly asked.

Fang Chang glanced at the sanatorium behind him.

"That isn't a problem. I already told the robot called Xiao Qi. It said it has recorded our results and will report them truthfully to the administrator."

Hearing that, Ye Shi finally relaxed.

Just as the players logged off one after another, removed their helmets, got out of bed, and prepared to begin a new day, Chu Guang, still on Bette Street, carefully removed the plastic bucket beneath the water filter.

Bette Street had public wells, and every household had its own rainwater collector. Chu Guang was no exception.

Aside from "glowing rain" that carried radioactive dust, or occasions when the clouds looked obviously abnormal, rainwater in the wasteland was generally safe. It was even safer than rainwater from before the war.

After all, it had been two hundred years since civilization declined. Industrial society staples like acid rain and smog were hard to find here.

Of course, even so, drinking rainwater directly was not a wise idea.

By cutting a plastic bottle in half, Chu Guang layered dried pine needles and moss fibers beneath the bottle opening, then added crushed charcoal ash on top.

That completed a simple water filter.

Chu Guang did not know whether graphite could absorb radiation, but in the distant suburbs far from nuclear blast craters, radiation was not the main threat to survival. Diarrhea and dehydration were.

He still remembered the first month after he settled here. He had diarrhea almost every other day. He had not died at the hands of mutants, but he had nearly died because of his own stomach.

"Not even ten liters... It's just a drop in the bucket."

Looking at the bottles and jars around the room, Chu Guang sighed.

He had stockpiled supplies for many days, yet the players had only been here for a few days and had already used almost all of them.

He had to think of something.

Just then, someone knocked on the door.

Chu Guang got up, walked over, pulled out the bolt, and opened the door.

Little Fish stood outside with her hands behind her back, her large dark eyes fixed on him without blinking. She did not say a word.

Just as Chu Guang was about to greet her, he suddenly remembered the marriage proposal Yu Hu had mentioned before, and he could not help feeling awkward.

Even if he took ten thousand steps back—

If there were no Vault 404, no system, no players, and he had no choice but to integrate into this society alone and without support... he still could not bring himself to do it.

She was too skinny.

At least raise her for another two years.

"Is something wrong?" Chu Guang asked calmly.

Yu Xiaoyu extended the arm she had hidden behind her back.

Only then did Chu Guang see the small, blackened cake clutched in her hand. If he was not mistaken, it was probably made by kneading paste cooked from green wheat.

"My second brother told me to bring this to you. He said I should say that I made it for you." She recited the words one character at a time.

The tangled subject-object relationship in that sentence left Chu Guang confused for a while. It took him some time to sort out that Yu Hu had asked her to give him the cake.

"Thank you?"

"You're welcome."

Little Fish stuffed the cake into Chu Guang's hand, turned around, and ran off in a flash, leaving Chu Guang standing there in utter confusion.

The real world.

Jinling.

After removing his helmet, Yan Feng rubbed the bridge of his nose, groped around on the bedside table, found his glasses, and put them on.

He sat by the bed for a while before finally getting up. After washing up in the bathroom, he put on his coat, went downstairs, mounted his bicycle, and slowly rode over to the cafeteria.

It was five-thirty in the morning.

Other than students preparing for graduate school entrance exams, few people came to the cafeteria at this hour. The entire hall was empty, with only a few counters near the entrance open for business.

The cafeteria aunt working behind one of the counters immediately recognized the regular customer and greeted him with a smile.

"Professor Yan, you're here early today."

"Mm, I went to bed pretty early yesterday... Two buns, please."

"The buns have just been put in the steamer. You'll have to wait a little."

"No rush."

Yan Feng took out his meal card and swiped it over the card reader.

The steam drifting from the bamboo steamer smelled delicious.

Yan Feng liked the smell. It was comforting, though unfortunately, it was not very friendly to someone wearing glasses.

He removed his glasses and wiped away the condensation. Unable to help himself, Yan Feng thought of his character in Wasteland OL.

His virtual self might have started with slightly less strength, but compared to his real self, he was still much stronger.

And most importantly, his virtual self was not nearsighted.

Just then, someone patted him on the shoulder.

Yan Feng put his glasses back on and turned around to find Professor Wang Haiyang.

"Do you have class this morning?"

"No class. I couldn't sleep, so I got up."

"I thought people who study physics stayed up late working themselves to death."

"That's a misconception. I rarely bring work home." Yan Feng pushed up his glasses, then seemed to think of something and looked at him. "By the way, there's something I want to ask you about."

Professor Wang Haiyang raised an eyebrow.

"Is it about yesterday's topic?"

Yan Feng nodded.

"Mm."

"Wait, let me ask first. That novel you mentioned isn't something you wrote yourself, is it?" Professor Wang Haiyang smiled. "With novels, it's better when things are vaguely plausible. If they're exactly like reality, they become less interesting."

"Actually, it isn't a novel. To be honest, it's... a game."

"A game?"

"Mm." Yan Feng accepted the buns from the cafeteria aunt, opened the plastic bag, and took a bite. "A post-apocalyptic game."

Professor Wang Haiyang became interested and asked.

"Give me some details?"

"I don't know the specifics either. The game is currently in closed beta, so I don't know much." Yan Feng paused. "How advanced would a society have to be for cars to not even need power sources?"

"No power sources?" Professor Wang Haiyang paused, then smiled. "Are you talking about replacing fixed power supplies with remote power transmission?"

"Is that difficult?" Yan Feng asked.

"I don't know whether it's difficult or not. From the perspective of my field alone... wireless power transmission itself is not difficult. The hard part is obtaining clean, cheap energy, so that even if energy loss reaches ninety percent or more, the cost remains acceptable."

At that point, Professor Wang Haiyang paused before continuing in a joking tone.

"Other than the controllable nuclear fusion described in science fiction, I can't think of a better solution."

Nuclear fusion?

Yan Feng looked thoughtful.

"I see..."

It seemed that the setting of Wasteland OL was even grander than he had imagined.

There had to be plenty more worth digging into.

"When are you planning to publish your novel? Can I have a look?" Professor Wang Haiyang joked. "Maybe I can even offer some advice."

Yan Feng looked at him.

"I told you, it isn't a novel."

"Fine, fine. If you say it isn't, then it isn't."

Professor Wang Haiyang accepted his own breakfast from the cafeteria aunt and smiled as he patted his colleague on the shoulder. "I have class, so I'll get going. Good luck!"